


Journey's End

by kronette



Category: A-Team (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way back to the hotel, Murdock requested they drive along Constitution Avenue, and B.A. instinctively turned in the correct direction.  He went along 17th to Independence, passing the Memorials.  Even at 9:30 at night, there were people at The Wall.  The van slowed down as it passed, but the occupants remained inside.  No words were spoken.  None were necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey's End

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to the men and women of our armed forces, who risk their lives to protect ours, and who rarely got the thanks they deserve. Originally posted November 2000 under my other pseud, Shelley Wright.

B.A. drove silently through the streets, on his way to assemble the Team.  This was a foolhardy mission.  Decker, flanked by MPs, would undoubtedly be out in full force, looking for them at their destination.  But it was something they all agreed on: the risk was worth it. 

B.A. pulled in front of Hannibal's apartment and beeped the horn twice.  The Colonel emerged with a garment and duffel bag.  He tossed the duffel in the back of the van and hung the garment bag on a hook.  He nodded to B.A. as he settled in his customary position in the passenger's seat. 

Neither said a word as the van pulled into traffic.  The route to the VA was a familiar one, and the van practically drove itself.  B.A. braked to a stop in front of the VA, letting the engine idle.

Murdock walked up to the van a few minutes later, carrying a suitcase.  He climbed in the back and acknowledged the rest of the Team with a sharp nod.  B.A. turned the van around and headed downtown.  Face had left instructions to pick him up at their warehouse, and B.A. smoothly maneuvered through traffic to their storage unit. 

Face was just closing the door as the van came to a stop.  Everyone climbed out and helped load the van with the supplies Face had retrieved.  That complete, they readied themselves for their cross-country trek. 

~~~

They entered Virginia two days later, surprised and relieved at the lack of US Army on their tails.  Hannibal kept his guard up and B.A. remained alert, but they arrived at a hotel on the outskirts of Arlington with no incidents.  Face checked them into a double room for two nights, and they unloaded the van.  The room wasn't elegant, but it would suffice for their small plan.  Murdock divided up the boxes, and they set to work.  Food was ordered in at lunchtime, but for dinner, they made the drive into DC.  The Washington Monument was lit as always, and its reflection in the reflecting pool barely rippled.  The air was chilly and calm, as winter was approaching.  The Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials were lit as elegantly as the White House.  They circled once around 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, then headed downtown for dinner. 

On the way back to the hotel, Murdock requested they drive along Constitution Avenue, and B.A. instinctively turned in the correct direction.  He went along 17th to Independence, passing the Memorials.  Even at 9:30 at night, there were people at The Wall.  The van slowed down as it passed, but the occupants remained inside.  No words were spoken.  None were necessary.  Hannibal nodded, and they returned to the hotel for a good night's sleep.  They had a long day ahead of them, and morning would come soon enough. 

Murdock was the first one up.  Truth be told, he barely slept.  This time of year always left him itchy and nervous, like he left the iron on at home.  Only he had no iron, and he had no home other than the Team.  He twirled one of the little white flowers between his fingers, letting his mind drift back to the late '60s, and his tours of Vietnam.  He felt safe doing it in the company of the Team.  He knew they wouldn't let him fall back into darkness.  He wouldn't be lost as long as he had them.  He looked up at the light touch on his shoulder, to B.A.'s sad smile.  Murdock reached up and patted the large hand, and offered up the flower.  B.A.'s smile strengthened to a genuine one, and he gave a little salute as he took the flower.  Murdock touched his index finger to his temple in response. 

Their attention was drawn to Hannibal as he sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands.  He looked blearily around the room, finally focusing on the Sergeant and the Captain.  He smiled briefly, the disappeared into the bathroom.  When he emerged, he was much more awake, water droplets clinging to the edges of his hair.  A splash of cold water was all Hannibal needed to bring himself to full alertness. 

It wasn't quite dawn yet, but they all turned as they heard Face yawn.  Of them all, Face was the worst morning person, but he knew the significance of today.  Face offered a tired smile as he pushed himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.  Face needed a shower before he was fully awake, so Hannibal started the coffee while B.A. and Murdock laid out their uniforms.  Face emerged in a puff of steam, towel wrapped around his waist.  He smiled brightly and accepted the cup of coffee that Hannibal poured for him.  The rest of the Team took turns in the shower, while Face polished their shoes, buttons and buckles. 

Clasps were fastened, collars straightened, and Face made a last pass with the buffing cloth over the medals that each man had pinned to their chest.  He polished Hannibal's last, then handed him the cloth.  Hannibal made sure Face's medals were as bright as the rest of the Team's, then they picked up the boxes and loaded the van. 

The sun was rising over the White House, tinting the land with its orange hue.  The sky was bright and clear, though the air was cool.  The complete opposite of the humid jungles of Vietnam.  The Wall reflected the sunlight dully, as though it sensed the significance of that day and chose to honor the dead with its  somberness.  Though it was early and the park wasn't officially open, the guards saluted them and allowed them to set up.  Each Team member took a box and went to different areas of the park.  As people began arriving, the Team handed them one of the flowers.  Attached to the flower was a tag that read simply, "Remember."  Hannibal had chosen the color: white, for hope. 

They weren't the only people in uniform.  All service branches were represented, in uniforms from World War I up to Vietnam.  The Team greeted those they knew, and those who remembered them from their previous years at the Wall.  Some were there alone, but most came with their families, and the other vets introduced them to their children and grandchildren.  If anyone recognized them as the A-Team, no one said a word.  Nothing was ever said to them about their supposed betrayal of their country.  People just saw soldiers, honoring those they served with. 

Mid-morning, Hannibal noticed a young boy of about eight years old walking in front of the Wall, clutching a scrap of paper in his hand.  A look of intense concentration turned his mouth down in a frown as he glanced from the paper to the Wall.  A quick glance showed the official assistants helping other people, so Hannibal walked over to the boy and knelt down.  He saw a name and date scribbled on the scrap of paper.  It looked vaguely familiar to Hannibal, and he tried to recall where he'd seen it on the Wall.  He picked up the boy and scanned the names along the middle section, finally locating it halfway down.  He pointed to it, and the boy's eyes lit up.  He wriggled out of Hannibal's arms and ran down the walkway to a woman scanning the names, with a scrap of paper in her hand.  He grabbed her free hand and tugged her toward the section of the Wall Hannibal still stood at, pointing excitedly to the name.  The woman, roughly 50 years old, clasped Hannibal's hand and murmured her thanks.  He heard her whisper something to the boy about his grandpa, then Hannibal quietly vanished into the crowd.  He didn't want to intrude on a family moment. 

The rest of the day passed much the same way, with only two quick breaks for lunch and dinner.  When the park closed at quarter to midnight, the Team migrated to the center of the Wall and stood smartly at attention.  Hannibal led the salute, continued for a ten count, then turned on his heel and led the Team back to the van.  Between them, only half a box of flowers remained.  They were all tired, but Face had a half-smile, Murdock was humming to himself, B.A. looked almost cheerful, and Hannibal finally took out a cigar and lit it.  They had missed the official ceremony at Arlington that day, but would visit tomorrow afternoon before they headed back to California.

~~~

The years sped swiftly by.  The Team's services weren't in quite as high a demand as they used to, leaving them more free time to themselves.  B.A. started dating, then became engaged to, a woman who ran a children's shelter in LA.  When May of 1989 rolled around, B.A. asked to bring her along.  Their new entourage crossed the country, and their tradition continued. 

Two years later, Face declined to go.  He found a career, legitimate for once, that commanded his full attention.  As a chemical research assistant, he was hoping to help find new medicines or even a cure for certain mental illnesses.  The research was critical, and he couldn't abandon it to travel for a few days.  There was real regret in his eyes as the van left the research facility for Virginia. 

Washington DC didn't feel the same without Face there.  The Team was incomplete.  The remaining three, plus B.A.'s now-wife, handed out their little white flowers with their message on them. 

The next year, Hannibal didn't try to contact B.A. or Face.  He and Murdock took a commercial airline to DC and continued their little tradition, but it wasn't the same.  It would never be the same. 

With the tradition broken, Hannibal found it hard to keep the Team together.  Face hadn't been able to go on any missions for almost a year, and without his 2IC, Hannibal didn't want to risk certain jobs.  B.A. had his wife, and all their "adopted" children who were dependent on them.  Hannibal was ready to call it quits, when one more mission came his way.  He decided it would be his last.  He planned for just him and Murdock to complete it.  All was going according to plan, then Hannibal blew out his knee while jumping off a two story building onto a moving jeep.  It messed up more than his knee, and with no one else to help them, Murdock called Face.  Face arranged for Hannibal to be taken to the VA in Wedgwood and cared for under an assumed name, dusting off skills he hadn't used in over three years. 

Hannibal was given a room in the opposite wing of Murdock, but they met on the grounds and in the halls, not really talking about old times.  Hannibal would never walk again, that was the doctor's prognosis.  Murdock blamed himself for the accident, even though it was Hannibal's own fault for thinking a man of almost 60 years could pull off a stunt like that.  Hannibal adjusted to life in a wheelchair - easier than crutches - but it took a long time for him to accept.  He was an active man, and his spirits needed healing as much as his body.  The nurses were good to him, joking around, and Murdock tried to cheer him up, but Hannibal could only hide so much.  He felt helpless.  Useless.  He'd spent most of his life helping people.  Putting scuzballs in jail.  Defending the weak.  Now he was one of the weak.  It was something his mind just couldn't wrap itself around. 

The summer of 1995 saw Hannibal once again on a plane to DC, this time for the dedication of the Korean War Veterans Memorial.  Murdock insisted he go, though his heart wasn't in it.  Neither Face nor B.A. had shown up at the VA to visit him or Murdock since the failed mission two years previous.  The Team he had so carefully built and nurtured had abandoned him. 

No, that wasn't fair. B.A. had a family to raise.  Face was actually contributing his talents to the benefit of mankind, something none of them ever expected from the con man who had always looked out for himself.  He couldn't expect them to know what he was going through.  They still had lives to live. 

Hannibal allowed Murdock to push him through the airport to the row of taxis outside.  Murdock gave the driver instructions on how to get to Arlington, bypassing the Memorials for the time being. They still had to pass Arlington National Cemetery, though.  The pure white of the headstones blurred together in one long streak, stretching back for miles, and Hannibal felt a lurch somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.  He'd always seen the soldiers as fallen heroes who gave their lives for what they believed in.  Now all he saw were dead husbands and sons. 

He didn't say a word as Murdock checked them into the hotel.  He rolled himself into the room, waiting for Murdock to bring in the luggage.  Tomorrow was the dedication ceremony.  The flight had been long, and they turned in early. 

~~~

DC in July was much different than DC in November, and Hannibal refrained from wearing his uniform in the muggy heat.  The humidity in the air took him back twenty-five years, to leading his Team out of the POW camp...to a life on the run from the same government they had been serving.  It all seemed so distant, now.  So pointless.  What had they accomplished in their lives, really? 

Murdock stood behind him as he rolled to a stop on the lawn.  Half the area was covered with huge cloths, and Hannibal wondered just how large the memorial actually was.  They stayed through the speeches until finally, the cloths were removed. 

The larger-than-life size soldiers were startling to behold, marching in a sweeping arc across the field.  The area was thick with people, all wanting to view the statues up close.  Hannibal and Murdock remained where they were, content to take it all in from a distance.  It was a fitting memorial to those who served the Korean War, which was Hannibal's first military conflict.  Vietnam held many memories, some good; some bad, but Korea is where he cut his teeth.  He straightened a bit in his chair, feeling pride creep into his blood once again.  He wheeled cautiously around the perimeter to the Pool of Remembrance and stared out over the water, lost in memories. 

Murdock touched his shoulder, and with a nod, he turned and started to follow Murdock to the line of taxis waiting to take people back to their hotels or homes.  Something stopped him, though, and he called for Murdock to wait.  Hannibal wheeled himself down the path to the Wall.  He couldn't make himself leave without seeing it.  He slowed himself down as he neared the middle, feeling the calmness of the place settling into his soul.  A scar in the earth, that was what the architect had called the Wall.  It was appropriate.  The Vietnam Conflict was a wound upon the soldiers souls who served in it, one that would never heal completely over. 

Very few people were at the Wall.  The newest addition to the memorials was drawing all the attention that day.  That suited Hannibal just fine.  He felt a hand on his shoulder and sighed.  He turned to ask Murdock if they could stay a few minutes longer, but it wasn't Murdock who touched him.  His eyes widened as he stared up into the brown eyes of his Sergeant.  A small white flower was tucked into B.A.'s shirt pocket.  On B.A.'s left was his wife, and in her arms was a child of about three, asleep.  Hannibal opened and shut his mouth, unable to say a word.  He covered B.A.'s hand with his own and squeezed tightly. 

He heard a throat clearing, and turned to find Murdock standing beside him, a mix of joy and worry in his expression.  Hannibal's gaze slid from Murdock to a man standing at the far end of the Wall.  A woman was at his side, unfamiliar to Hannibal, but the man's stance...his hair...

Face turned to face Hannibal, his expression one of regret.  A thousand words passed between them, two thousand, and suddenly Hannibal understood.  Face didn't abandon him.  He just didn't know how to balance his new life with his old.  But now he was there to make amends.  Hannibal looked up at B.A., and saw the same message in his expression.

Face pulled the woman around, whispering in her ear.  Her hand rested on her stomach; she looked to be about five months pregnant.  Face held up their joined hands, and a wedding band glinted off her third finger.  He smiled then, his old charming smile, and he and his wife walked toward Hannibal.  The white flower stood out against the dark navy of Face's suit.  He stopped just shy of arms distance and let go of his wife's hand.  He snapped to attention and marched to stand beside Hannibal. 

Hannibal heard B.A. doing the same thing at his left, and saw Murdock on the other side of Face, staring straight ahead, at attention.  Hannibal swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, and led the salute for a count of ten. 

The tradition began again.

~~~

It was almost perfect in its execution, as if Hannibal had planned it himself.  The Vietnam Veterans Memorial was built ten years after their escape from Fort Bragg.  Every year, they made the journey across the country they continued to defend in their own way, and to pay respects to those who didn't return from Vietnam.  They were there in 1982 when it was unveiled.  They were there in 1984 for the dedication ceremony, even if they couldn't get very close to the actual event.  Security was very tight as President Reagan was in attendance, and they were still wanted war criminals.  They met in front of the Wall on the day of the Korean War Memorial dedication in 1995, brought together by some unseen bond.  Now five years later, they were back in DC, this time for the groundbreaking for the World War II Memorial. 

Hannibal pulled on his uniform and grunted as he buttoned it.  He'd gained a few pounds since the last time he wore it, but he was determined to wear it today.  He glanced up at a snicker.  Murdock patted his own stomach with a grin.  The bulge of Murdock's belly was only partially hidden by the bottom of his uniform.  Hannibal shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth and grinned back. 

The beep from the rented minivan caused a flurry of activity inside the hotel room.  Murdock shrieked with laughter as he tried to find his hat, which was buried underneath that morning's newspaper.  Hannibal spun in a neat circle, then headed out the door, Murdock right behind him.  Murdock helped him into the front seat while B.A. took care of the wheelchair.  Hannibal pointed to B.A.'s midsection and chuckled.  The buttons were straining almost as badly as his own.  B.A. scowled at him and his wife, who was snickering in the seat just behind B.A.,  and revved the engine.  Face and his wife were going to meet them at the Wall, so they found a parking space and B.A. brought around the wheelchair.  Hannibal settled into it and pushed off, toward the crowd. 

As he scanned the crowd, tears filled his eyes.  Ten years.  They'd spent ten years passing out their little white flowers to the crowd at the Wall on Veterans Day and Memorial Day.  It seemed that everyone there had a flower tucked into their lapel, pocket, or hair.  Hannibal slowly worked his way through the crowd, finally catching sight of three figures passing out their flowers.  Face, his wife, and their little boy, Jonathan, stood at the edge of the crowd, greeting people as they passed.  Face must have sensed his gaze, because he glanced up and smiled warmly. 

Hannibal returned the smile and wheeled over.  Murdock appeared out of nowhere at Face's side with a stack of boxes - more flowers.  Murdock passed one to Hannibal, B.A. and his wife, then took one for himself.  They spread out, each taking different points along the park.  As sunset drew near, the Team migrated toward the Wall.  B.A. and Face's family stayed back, respecting the Team's time together.  It was just the Team again, standing side by side, facing the Wall.  More people than they were used to were still there, as it was fairly early, but they knew it was time.  Hannibal led the salute for the ten count. As they stood at attention, B.A. nudged Hannibal's shoulder, getting his attention. 

A tall figure stood next to B.A., back ramrod straight, still saluting.  Hannibal had to look twice, fearing his eyes were failing him.  Colonel Roderick Decker finally lowered his arm, took three steps forward, and marched directly in front of the Team.  His face was shadowed by the setting sun, but the white flower was unmistakable on his lapel.  Decker removed his hat and tucked it under his arm.  He stared into the distance and saluted the Team. 

Hannibal stared in shock.  After all these years, after chasing them through most of the states in the union, Colonel Decker was giving them a sign of utmost respect.  With a start, Hannibal remembered to return the salute.  He sensed the rest of the Team saluting as well.  Only then did Decker lower his arm.  The man they'd thought of as their enemy for years removed the flower from his lapel and handed it to Hannibal.  He saluted once more, then turned and walked away. 

The Team stared after him, too shocked to say anything. Hannibal studied the flower, wondering what the significance was.  Then he noticed the tag.  All the tags they made said "Remember", but the first year, they made a two-sided tag.  One side said "Remember"; the other said "Honor."  Decker's flower had a two sided tag.  He looked up to get the attention of the rest of the Team, but they were already looking at the flower, and understood what it meant.  Decker knew where they would be two days out of every year, yet he did nothing to apprehend them.  Decker may have been ruthless in his pursuit of the A-Team, but even he couldn't deny their respect for those who didn't return home with them.  It was a somber thought that stayed with them as they headed to the parking lot. 

Today had only been the groundbreaking for the WWII memorial.  Hannibal knew, without saying a word, that they would all meet again for its unveiling.  It should be the last memorial, unless veterans of the Gulf War decided they wanted one, too.  Hopefully, there would be no more wars that would require memorials.  Hannibal turned in a slow circle, taking in the memorials around him.  So much death and destruction.  Hundreds of thousands of lives lost.  Had it been worth it? 

Jonathan's squeal of laughter echoed among the concrete and steel, giving Hannibal his answer.  Yes, it had been worth it.  The things that mattered most were the things worth fighting for.  There, being swung around by his godfather Murdock, was something worth fighting for.  Family.  Love.  The future. 

Jonathan tumbled to the ground, taking Murdock with him.  As Jonathan raced over to his father and jumped up into his arms, Hannibal couldn't help but think that all this had been planned.  Not only was his Team together, but their families had made the journey as well.  With a shrug, he wheeled to the van, joking to Face and B.A. about supplying him with a new Team.  Face protested vehemently about sending any son of his on dangerous missions.  Murdock slung his arm around B.A. and quoted along with him about Hannibal being on the jazz again.  Hannibal grinned around his cigar as he lit it.  No matter if it had been planned or not, he loved it when a plan came together.

The End

 


End file.
